


Invisible Friends to Lovers

by hamykia



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, Imaginary Friends, M/M, Spideypool - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamykia/pseuds/hamykia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's second year of high school could have started better, but you have to take what you can get.<br/>Things could change now that he's made a new friend, or that's what he thinks.<br/>Well, he's right. Things will change, but maybe not for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been wanting to try something new, write something out of my comfort zone, and this it it.
> 
> My options were:  
> -An AU  
> -First person  
> -Something darker  
> -A new fandom
> 
> And one day I was talking to energiaoscura on tumblr, and she said I should write a Spideypool fanfic, and after a while I thought "hey, why shouldn't I do all of them together?".  
> And here we are now.
> 
> But before you start reading, I want to thank priceless chokolacat for her beta-reading and moral support.  
> I wouldn't have been able to share this today without her! :)

My name is Peter Parker, and I’m the unluckiest man alive. And yes, I’m also a fan of The Flash. A young scientist turned superhero? What’s there not to love?

I would never say any of this out loud. It’s kinda lame and, to be honest, I’m probably not the unluckiest guy in the world —not even in Queens. I’ve just been feeling that way for a while. In fact, some people say I’m very lucky. Guess it all depends on the eye of the beholder, cause I secretly think I’m jinxed.

It all started when my girlfriend Gwen and her father died in a car crash. I was in the car with them, but I survived with only a couple of weird-looking scars as a reminder. Very lucky indeed.

That happened half a year ago, but it feels like half a lifetime now. I think I already got over it, which is normal when something even worse happens afterward. And of course it happened. I survived another car crash a couple of months ago. My parents didn’t.

I won’t deny it could be much worse. At least I still have Aunt May and Uncle Ben, who took me in, but forgive me if I’m not feeling very cheerful at the moment.

Uncle Ben says I’m free to feel that way, but my new teachers don’t seem to agree. I started at my new high school a month ago, and they wanted me to fit right in. They clearly don’t know me at all. I’d only managed to make two friends by the time I graduated from school. And one of them was Gwen.

But I’m not friendless! I still have Harry and I’ve made one more friend since I moved here, but I think he doesn’t count. His name is Wade and he’s supposed to be Mr. Wilson’s son, but he doesn’t exist. The thing is, Mr. Wilson is our neighbor next door, where Wade lives, but he doesn’t have any children. So yeah, I have an invisible friend. A.k.a. my invisible invisible friend, cause I’ve never seen him. Do people see their invisible friends? I always thought they did, but maybe that’s closer to schizophrenia.

Whatever the case, I’m very glad I met Wade, even if he isn’t real. Which is good, I guess, cause he’d have a pretty shitty life otherwise. Being locked inside that house all day would drive anyone crazy, so I’m glad I’m the only crazy one here. Aunt May was a bit worried at first, understandably, but Uncle Ben is cool with it. He said he used to have an invisible friend when he was younger, so it brings back memories or something. He convinced Aunt May to let me talk to Wade whenever I wanted, saying it would help me get over all those horrible deaths.

Well, he’s been right so far. Wade’s been a great help since the beginning. At least I never feel alone now; when I do, I go talk to him in the backyard. I’m aware that, according to all sources, I’m actually alone and talking to myself. But that’s not the feeling I get when I’m talking to Wade, so it works for me. I he were real, I’d say that meeting him is one the few good things that have happened to me since Gwen died six months ago, but I’m not sure what that says about me now I know he’s part of my mind…

Whenever I’m trying to sleep and dark memories come to me —oh, I should be a poet—, I remember the day we met and it makes me laugh. That sounded kinda romantic, but he actually scared the shit out of me. I used to go hide in the backyard saying I would take a look at the plants or something like that. I did water the plants while I talked to them, or talked to random animals as I gave them food. The day I started at my new high school, which is close enough to Uncle Ben’s place so I can go walking —I still can’t get into a car without suffering a panic attack, but I’m working on it—, I went into the backyard feeling especially depressed. It had been a month since my parents’ deaths, and I’d been remembering the accident all day long. Nobody had talked to me that day, I probably looked like shit, and I’d almost gotten a heart attack when I saw a blond girl, too similar to Gwen, sneaking into our class during the break. I later learned she was best friends with a redheaded girl in our class called Mary Jane. Anyway, I was feeling sad and lonely, and remembering too much, and when I got back home —to my new home— it was empty, so I just went into the backyard, sat down on the bench closer to the white fence Mr. Wilson had built around his house, and wept.

“Fuck it, I have to say something!” a voice yelled.

It’s mortifying to remember that I literally fell to the ground, but at least the shock made me stop crying.

“Who is this?” I asked, my ass still on the ground.

“Shit, he heard us! Now what?”

I waited patiently, holding my breath. The voice seemed to come from the other side of the fence, but it didn’t sound like Mr. Wilson at all. It sounded much younger.

“Hum. Hello? I’m Wade,” the voice said. “Your neighbor. Nice to meet you.”

It sounded as if he was coming up with what to say as he spoke.

“Uh... I’m Peter, nice to meet you too.”

“Hi, Peter! Lovely day, ain’t it?!”

Now he sounded too eager, but I thought it was some inside joke I didn’t get.

“I guess so…”

“Oh, shit! You were crying. It was probably not a good day for you at all, right? Wanna talk about it?”

I hesitated. I couldn’t see him and I didn’t know who he was.

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“You wouldn’t! I’ve heard you before, so I know. Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t eavesdrop on purpose and I usually don’t talk to people. One of those none-the-wiser situations, except that now you know, cause you sound nice. Like a nice person. You know, nice.”

“Thank you. You sound nice too.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say, but that made him squeak in delight, and I got to my feet feeling much better. And much less scared.

“Wanna come over so we can talk properly? I have some homemade lemonade at home.”

Wade groaned.

“No can do, Peter. I can’t get out of here, and you can’t get in. The rules are the rules. And what kind of people would we be if we didn’t follow the rules? The worst kind, right? And we don’t want to be the worst kind of people. Do we?”

I started to suspect that Wade was a bit weird then, but that made me feel glad. I’d been talking to myself in the backyard every day for almost a month, so I didn’t want him to think I was mad. If he rambled and talked to himself like I did, he wouldn’t judge me.

“I don’t think we are the worst kind of people, but that’s OK. We can talk like this if that’s fine.”

“Well, I don’t know what the Sergeant would say. But we could keep it a secret from him.”

I assumed he meant Mr. Wilson.

“I’d like that, if that means I get to talk to you from now on.”

He was quiet for a while.

“I’m here every day, but I can’t tell you when.” His voice got lower, making him sound older and more serious, almost worried. “You can just talk to yourself like you always do, and I’ll join you if I’m around.”

“Yeah, about that…”

I could feel my face was hot enough to fry a dozen eggs on it, and I was really glad there was an enormous fence standing between us. That way, Wade didn’t have to know I was a master at blushing. It is one of my secret superpowers: when I blush, my whole face turns red, and if I feel someone’s watching me, or anyone mentions it, the red will spread and turn even brighter. My father used to say we should switch off the lights one day, to see if I actually lit up like a light bulb. I had been about to tell Wade to forget about what he’d overheard, but that got me thinking about how my father would never get to prove his hypothesis, and it made me cry again.

Hello, embarrassment, my old friend.

If that wasn’t awkward enough, Wade asked me what was wrong and I told him everything. And I mean everything. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I told him stuff I had never said out loud, like how I felt guilty about their deaths cause, apparently, another one of my secret superpowers is to get people I love killed. I even told him about my Master’s Degree in Reddening, and anything else that came to mind at that moment. Once I’d finished, he said “Well, that sucks” and I felt so much better.

“I’m sorry, I had a really shitty month and I dumped it all on you.”

“No need to thank me, I didn’t do anything.”

“You listened to me, and you’re still talking to me after all that, aren’t you? That really helps.”

“No biggie.”

“But you know what? I’ve been talking about myself all the time, that’s super rude! Why don’t you—”

“Peter! I’m home! Where are you?” Aunt May called.

“In the backyard!”

She opened the door and waved at me from the kitchen. I waved back.

“There you are! Were you watering the plants?”

I looked around. I was holding the garden hose. I hadn’t even noticed I had taken it.

“About to!”

“I’ll go take a shower while you do it, then. Let me know when you’re finished!”

“OK, Aunt May. See you!”

When she left, I set up the hose and looked at the backyard. There was a northern red oak on the left, and a black cherry on the right. The garden was mainly a square of grass crossed by a stone path and bordered by a tall hedge all along its left side and the back. Instead of the hedge, there was a bed of roses on the right side. I knew they had planted the roses a few years ago, when Mr. Wilson had moved from Canada and built the fence, making the hedge superfluous on that side of the garden. I then remembered something about Mr. Wilson saying he wanted to build a wall around his house. The other neighbors hadn’t wanted him to, but they had compromised and Mr. Wilson ended up building a tall wooden fence. Then, he had painted it white. When he told me that, Uncle Ben also mentioned the man had been in the army. It kind of made sense he wanted to build a fortress. Especially knowing he was a Canadian who might have heard about how dangerous New York was, right? Right.

I went back to the bench between the black cherry and the roses, and started watering the flowers.

“Wade? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why can’t you get out?”

He took a bit too long to answer and I grew anxious. And “a bit” might have been an understatement. I had almost finished watering the garden by the time he answered.

“I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“It’s OK, man. Don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.”

“But if you want to, I’ll try to listen as well as you did, OK?”

“OK.”

“Will you be here tomorrow? Can we talk again?”

“About what you asked me?”

I could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“About whatever you want to talk about,” I said trying not to sound too desperate.

“I want to talk about films or TV series. And I want you to tell me what happens in class tomorrow.”

“Consider it done.”

Wade laughed. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh, and it made me smile.

“OK, I gotta get inside,” I said as I finished rolling up the garden hose. “See you tomorrow, Wade.”

“Hear you tomorrow, Peter.”

After dinner, I fell asleep as soon as I got to bed, and I had no nightmares. It was my first decent sleep since the night Gwen and George Stacy had died.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's having a hard time, but Wade will do his best to help him.  
> That's what friends are for, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, thank you for all your support, kudos, comments, and stuff.  
> You made me so happy, guys!  
> So I decided to post another chapter as soon as possible, but please don't get too used to it, because I left other things undone :(  
> I promise I'll keep writing if you like where it's going.
> 
> Again, I want to thank energiaoscura for her request and support, and flawless chokolacat for her awesome beta-reading and conversation.
> 
> Anyway, this is kind of a happy chapter, so I hope you enjoy it, but... don't get used to that either.

As life-changing as meeting Wade would turn out to be, the rest of my world remained the same. I still had to go to a high school where I had no friends, still had to gasp for breath every time I saw Mary Jane’s blond friend (which happened very often, since Mary Jane was my desk-mate now), and still went straight into the backyard as soon as I got home. At least I didn’t talk alone any more.  
  
It’s not only that I didn’t have to, because Wade would be there most of the time, but I also started to take books and comics with me for those rare moments in which I was the one waiting. I didn’t want to start talking to the plants —even though that was exactly what I’d been doing when I met Wade—, so I would read something out loud until he interrupted me, and then we would talk until I had to get back inside. I was always the first one to leave.  
  
Sometimes he didn’t talk for a while, but I knew he was there. I would like to say I could feel his presence the moment he stepped into his backyard, but it wasn’t so. I just somehow got the sudden feeling that he was on the other side of the fence, listening to me. I don’t know if he was waiting to make sure Mr. Wilson was out of earshot, or just because he was interested in what I was reading, but I’d rather not ask. I didn’t want to sound creepy and, really, what could I say? “Hey, Wade, I’m not reading cause I feel like it, did you know? I’m lonely and kind of your stalker now, so… how’s everything going? Did you do anything interesting today, other than listening to me read The Flash?” Yeah, I could probably be more subtle than that, but he’d start asking questions and I’d end up telling him everything, so where was the difference?  
  
Anyway, he didn’t want to talk about himself and I knew it, so I was very careful about that. The few times I did end up asking something too personal, he had been silent for so long that I’d been afraid he’d just left. I even asked about Mr. Wilson once and he changed the topic, but if he was angry he didn’t say. Sometimes, he did answer my questions after a few minutes, but I always felt regret afterward. So, as long as I didn’t touch certain topics, our conversations were fine. Amazing, even. Wade was terribly original, and his jokes —though they could get quite crude— were off the charts. I enjoyed talking to him so much, I didn’t mind my state of friendlessness at my new high school. But life had other plans for me.  
  
It all started with a pretty innocent question.  
  
“Hey, you like The Flash?”  
  
I put my comic-book down so I could stare at Mary Jane to confirm that yes, she was talking to me, and yes, that had been a serious question. Hard to believe, after I had been reading back issues of The Flash for a week, but maybe she hadn’t noticed. Why would she look twice at her gloomy neighbor when she had so many friends? I hadn’t been a very good neighbor, so I couldn’t blame her.  
  
“Mm, yes. Do you?” I answered at last.  
  
“No, not really.”  
  
 _Well, why do you ask, then? Shortest conversation ever._  
  
“I prefer Arrow,” she added, probably realizing she had killed the conversation she’d just started.  
  
“Oh, I used to watch Arrow before The Flash got his own series,” I was happy to say. Maybe this conversation could last a bit more and break my own record.  
  
“I see, so you’re one of those.”  
  
“Of those what?”  
  
“Thompson did the same. Did you know he’s a Flash fanboy too? Even people started calling him Flash Thompson! Well, there’s also the thing about him being a fast quarterback and all,” she said dismissively.  
  
I knew about his nickname, but I’d never talked to him. I looked his way and there he was, sitting on his desk and glaring at me. It was clearly my destiny to remain friendless for now. _Not that it matters, cause you have Wade_ , I reminded myself.  
  
“So he’s a Runner?” I asked, turning to her.  
  
Mary Jane looked at him and back at me.  
  
“A runner?”  
  
“That’s how Flash fanboys are called,” I explained. “You know, after they realized the term Flashers didn’t sound too appropriate.”  
  
Mary Jane laughed at that and unknowingly sealed my doom.  
  
  
  
Some hours later, I bumped into none other than Eugene “Flash” Thompson as I went back home. I’d been busy thinking about what to read in the backyard, and I hadn’t noticed him standing in front of me. Yeah, I’m definitely the clumsiest guy in New York.  
  
“Sorry, my bad. I didn’t see you,” I apologized.  
  
He got even closer and lowered his gaze, visibly glaring at me. This time for real.  
  
“You didn’t see me, Pete? Am I too short for you to notice?”  
  
I could see where this was going, and I realized I’d been right: we weren’t going to bond over The Flash. Or over anything else, for that matter.  
  
“What do you want, Thompson?” I refused to give him my favorite superhero’s name.  
  
“I want to know what you told her.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” I asked, cause I had other things in my mind and I couldn’t put two and two together.  
  
“Mary Jane. What did you tell her? You two were laughing at me, weren’t you?”  
  
“What? She was just telling me they called you Flash and—”  
  
“Oh, so you like nicknames, don’t you? I’ll give you one, then.”  
  
He got even closer. I couldn’t help but think that it would look like something completely different from the wrong angle, so I stepped back.  
  
“You scared, Puny Pete? Good. You should be. Next time I see you close to her, you’re gonna eat my—”  
  
I never got to hear how that sentence ended, since the sound of a klaxon interrupted him. Someone who had come to pick him up, I guessed, because then he smiled at me and pretended to be saying goodbye.  
  
“Remember my words,” he said instead.  
  
After that, he got into the car and left. I stood at the sidewalk, still confused. When I remembered Wade would be waiting, I rushed back home. He was already in his backyard, and he must have noticed my agitation the moment I started reading, cause he interrupted me immediately to ask what had happened. I told him everything, and he laughed so hard I thought he’d gone mad.  
  
“Are you sure he’s bullying you? Puny Pete? That’s sooo lame! It must have been awkward, right? Trying not to laugh. And so childish! What is he, 15?”  
  
“Actually, yeah,” I admitted uncomfortably.  
  
“What? How old are you then?”  
  
Exactly the question I’d been expecting. And dreading.  
  
“I’m 14. But I’ll be 15 soon. I’m one of those late-birthday kids.”  
  
“I thought you were older! And I’ve been making all sorts of jokes around you… I should be rated R!”  
  
“It doesn’t matter, does it? How old are you, anyway?”  
  
“I… Me…” he hesitated, and I was afraid he’d turn silent again. “I’m older than you, I guess.”  
  
I could hear fear in his voice, so I tried to help him out, even though I was dying to know more. I craved every bit of information I could get, as if I were starving. But I still didn’t want him to know about that creepy and “stalkerish” streak in me. The knowledge that he was older than me would have to suffice for the moment being.  
  
“So you think you can come up with a better insulting nickname just because you’re older?”  
  
“Come on, age doesn’t matter. I would have left him gaping even when I was a baby. Puny Pete sounds too cute.”  
  
“OK. Enlighten me.”  
  
He was easy to please when he was in a good mood, and I could hear him mumbling happily to himself.  
  
“No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. And that’s not something we should say. Whatever.” I could hear him pacing around, but he quickly stopped to talk to me, or so I assumed. “Well, there’s the obvious one.”  
  
“Which is…?” I said to encourage him.  
  
“Punchbag Parker?”  
  
“Well, it does sound more threatening, I’ll give you that. But it’s not saying much.”  
  
“Come on, dude, it’s way better than Puny Pete,” he complained. “Even Princess Peter could be more offensive.”  
  
“Oh, I find _that_ offensive. What if I wanted to be a princess?”  
  
“Then we’d have to call you Pretty Princess Pete. You’d pull it off too, I’m sure.”  
  
Why was I upset about that again? This was the most fun I’d had in ages. I even entertained the idea of thanking Thompson the following day, but I never got the chance to do it. It wouldn’t have felt sincere after he punched me in the face.  
  
After the incident, I ran back home, got some ice and a cloth from the kitchen, and went into the backyard.  
  
“I don’t feel like reading today,” I said to no one in particular.  
  
So I felt rather relieved when no-one-in-particular replied.  
  
“Peter?! What’s wrong? You sound… weird.”  
  
“I’m so done with it, Wade. I can’t.”  
  
“Wait, Pete! Oh, I fucking hate this fence right now.”  
  
I’d never heard him complain about it before. That made me stop and think. Or listen. Which was exactly what I needed.  
  
“Don’t do anything you might regret. Remember your aunt and your uncle love you. And I’m here, OK? I’m here even if… SHIT! Even if I can’t be over there.”  
  
“Wade…”  
  
“And I know I’m too selfish, but you’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, so please—”  
  
“Wade! Listen to me! I’m so sorry I scared you like that, but I’m not going anywhere, OK? I was angry, so I came to talk to you. One punch’s not gonna take me down,” I tried to laugh it off. “That Flash Thompson guy is not Saitama. He’s not even The Flash.”  
  
“O-oh…” Wade was breathing with difficulty, and it made me feel like a terrible person. “Wait. That Thompson guy punched you?!”  
  
“Yeah, made me eat his fists, like he told me he’d do.”  
  
“Oh, I thought it was going to be his cock. He never finished that sentence, right?”  
  
“WADE!” I groaned.  
  
“What is it? Should I have said _thingy_ instead?”  
  
“That’s not the problem,” I whispered. “And please don’t.”  
  
“Well, he was clearly flirting with you before, from my POV. What did you want me to think?”  
  
“If you think that’s flirting, you’re the one who has a problem here. Or is gonna have one in the future.”  
  
“Oh, I have many problems, Pete. Believe me. But that’s never going to be one of them. The problem right now is I gotta kick this fucking fence down… Yeah, I may be no titan, but I can’t stay here while Pete gets hurt. What kind of—?”  
  
“Waaade, can we talk for a bit, please? I need you to focus. You already made me realize how stupid I’ve been, but I need your advice,” I pleaded. “Come on, man.”  
  
“Hmm… OK. Of course I can do that! I’m… I’m listening, Pete. What happened? Tell me from the beginning, please.”  
  
So I told him Mary Jane’s friend had been sick, and she’d joined me for lunch. We’d spent all break talking about Arrow and The Flash. She’d done her homework and started watching The Flash the previous evening, just so she could tell me how much better Arrow was. She’d been so merciless, I’d been thinking about watching Arrow again just to get back at her.  
  
“You’re just gonna give her what she wants,” Wade commented.  
  
I was glad to know he was back to normal.  
  
“Well, I can’t let an Arrowhead win this war, can I?”  
  
“Did she get angry when you called her that?”  
  
“And I asked if she was one of those who wanted the Arrow fans to be called The Shafts.” Wade laughed, and I felt quite proud of myself. “So… According to Thompson, who only heard some parts of the conversation, we were laughing at him. Because there’s no other Flash in the universe, you know?”  
  
“Or universes!” Wade added. “And you two met after class and he punched you?”  
  
“In the face,” I added, nodding even if he couldn’t see it.  
  
“Right where everyone can see it? Your dear Flash is not the sharpest tool in the shed.”  
  
“Well…” I hesitated. “That might have been my fault. Partly.”  
  
“What do you mean? Did you fall face-first on his fist? I hear that can happen, man.”  
  
I tried to ignore him and sound serious.  
  
“OK, so… he might or might not have called me Puny Pete, and I… might or might not have laughed at that,” I confessed.  
  
“Peter Parker! No, you didn’t!”  
  
I couldn’t stop smiling and that made my face hurt. I wasn’t even sure if the ice was helping, or it was just freezing my hands after holding it for so long. Wade was helping, though. Of that I was sure.  
  
“Well, I couldn’t help it! I remembered what you said and I—”  
  
“So it is my fault now?” Wade asked teasingly.  
  
“No!” I grumbled. “You know what? You can call me crazy, but now I think it was worth it. In hindsight and all that.”  
  
“You _are_ crazy, but so am I. And I still want to punch his ugly mug.”  
  
I laughed.  
  
“I appreciate the feeling, but that’s not gonna fix anything. And… Ughhh… He’s not ugly, actually.”  
  
“You’re not telling me you think he’s hot, are you?” he asked incredulous.  
  
“You said you wanted to punch his ugly face, but you should have said ‘his pretty face’ instead. Thought I should let you know. For reference.”  
  
“I refuse! He punched you and I can only picture him as the ugliest human being,” he snapped.  
  
“He’s tall, blond, blue-eyed, kinda ripped for a fifteen-year-old… He’s popular and the school team’s quarterback, has fangirls, and he’s probably going out with a cute girl called L—”  
  
“You jealous, Parker?” he spat.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Wade. It’s just… I don’t understand what he gets from bullying me. Is it because he’s interested in Mary Jane?” I wondered. “Cause he has nothing to fear from me. Also, he’s the most handsome guy in class after Johnny, and he has everything an American kid can aspire to. I can’t even compare, I have no friends, and still he wants to make my life even more miserable.”  
  
“Well, Peter. The world is a shitty place. He might have issues, or maybe he just wants to feel powerful. But… I thought we were friends…” he trailed off.  
  
“Of course we are!” I exclaimed. “Come on, Wade. I think you’re my best friend! You should already know.”  
  
“Really?” Wade sounded astonished. “I… I didn’t know. Do you really think so?”  
  
“Sure. I know you are.”  
  
It was true. No one had done for me what Wade did daily, and he didn’t ask for anything in return. He deserved all the friendship awards. I felt bad about Harry, but come on, he probably had a new best friend too, right?  
  
“Hmm, thanks. You know, Pete? Looks are not everything. Girls do prefer a smart guy that makes them laugh. Just like me.”  
  
“I’m not going to say you’re wrong. But Wade, Mary Jane’s not—”  
  
“Peter Benjamin Parker! What happened to your face?”  
  
I froze in place. The door to the kitchen was open. She had not heard anything, had she?  
  
“Hi, Aunt May,” I managed to say. “Eh… It’s kind of a long story.”  
  
As expected, she made me go inside and tell her everything. She was angry at first —not at me, of course— and then worried. She wanted to talk to my teachers, to Thompson’s parents, to anyone, but I managed to explain that this had been a terrible misunderstanding, and made her believe that maybe I could still fix it on my own. I wasn’t keen on the idea of destroying my chance at having a social life during the high school years I had left just because of Flash Thompson.  
  
Aunt May, ever so understanding, promised she would talk to Uncle Ben. I knew he’d had similar problems as a child, but I didn’t know all the details, so it was good to have an ally that would make things less painful for everyone.  
  
“So, er… Pete… Dear… Who were you talking to… you know… in the backyard?” Aunt May asked hesitantly.  
  
I knew her well enough by then. She was being very careful about what she said. And she’d waited until everything was solved before asking. I had a very bad feeling about that, but I didn’t know why.  
  
“To Wade,” I replied. “But please don’t tell Mr. Wilson.”  
  
“Who is Wade?” she asked holding my hands.  
  
“I don’t know, I always thought he was Mr. Wilson’s son.”  
  
She looked really worried and I was really scared.  
  
“But Peter… Mr. Wilson has no family left. And… he’s always lived alone.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we know why Aunt May and Uncle Ben think Wade is an imaginary friend.
> 
> Peter doesn't know what to believe anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this one!
> 
> And again, all of this is thanks to chokolacat and energiaoscura on tumblr, you already know why ;)

“But Peter… Mr. Wilson has no family left. And… he’s always lived alone,” Aunt May said with her apologetic voice.  
  
Good thing I was sitting down, because I swear I felt the floor open under my feet. Had I really thought Aunt May would make things less painful? Well, she was proving me wrong.  
  
“What do you mean?” I asked, utterly confused. “You heard me talk to him. Didn’t you hear his voice?”  
  
“I’m sorry, but no. I’d just arrived when I called you. I only heard you talk.”  
  
I shivered. What was she implying? I couldn’t bring myself to focus, but I was sure Wade was real. He had to be. Even if I couldn’t find a reason other than me wanting him to be real. I stood up, but she made me sit down again.  
  
“Peter, calm down. Let’s not jump to conclusions yet.”  
  
“Then what did you mean? Why did you say that?”  
  
I knew my voice sounded angry, but I was just scared.  
  
“I don’t know what it means. Why don’t we find out together?” she tried to reassure me. “Do you want me to talk to Mr. Wilson?”  
  
“No!” I yelled. “Please don’t. Wade told me Mr. Wilson can’t know about me. Anything but that!”  
  
“All right, Peter,” she said looking into my eyes. “I won’t tell him unless you want me to, I promise.”  
  
“Thanks, Aunt May.”  
  
That made me feel a bit better, but it was still difficult to think coherently. I looked through the window and into the backyard. I wanted to tell Wade everything. He’d know what to say to cheer me up; he’d manage to make me laugh again. Still, I was afraid that he wouldn’t reply.  
  
Aunt May followed my eyes and asked if Wade would still be around at that late hour. I smiled, and ten minutes later we were sitting on the bench. I was feeling rather frustrated, because Wade had not replied to any of us.  
  
“Maybe he already left.” Aunt May tried to excuse Wade. “It’s late; he might be sleeping.”  
  
“But I know he’s there! He has to be listening to us. Why won’t he say anything?”  
  
“I… don’t know.” Aunt May looked at me; there was pity in her eyes. “Let’s go back inside. Uncle Ben will be here soon.”  
  
I nodded staring at the floor, unable to look her in the eye. She stood up and left, but I stayed behind just a moment, enough to gawk at the fence until I felt embarrassed —which was, admittedly, not very long. Though I guess the embarrassment was forgotten as soon as I got to the doorway, because I found myself lingering to look at the fence one last time before closing the door.  
  
“Peter! What happened to your face?” Uncle Ben asked as soon as I turned around, showing a great display of good timing.  
  
I couldn’t possibly go through everything again, so I looked at Aunt May and was glad to see her nod. She’d offered to tell Uncle Ben, after all. I ate my dinner in silence while they talked, and I focused on their reactions. Aunt May was being very objective, but also included my point of view as she spoke, smoothing things a bit. Uncle Ben’s eyes narrowed as she told him about Flash Thompson, then widened when she got to Wade. By the time my aunt finished with, “Well, I think that’s everything, what do you think?”, Uncle Ben was smiling at me.  
  
“I believe I can help you, Peter,” he said. “First, even though the ice is good for the swelling, a massage with salad oil will help the bruise fade earlier. You should try that.”  
  
Did it really look that bad? I hadn’t seen it yet, and I’d forgotten all about the pain after hearing that Mr. Wilson lived on his own. Both my mind and my body still felt numb.  
  
“Will do. Thanks, Uncle Ben.”  
  
“Remember you don’t have to deal with it alone, OK? But if you want to give the kid a second chance, I respect that,” he added.  
  
“Hum, OK.”  
  
I was thinking more along the lines of giving me a second chance, but I could do with a little respect there, so I wisely kept it to myself.  
  
“About Wade…”  
  
I flinched.  
  
“Do you think he could be an imaginary friend? I used to have one myself when I was a kid,” he told us.  
  
“I didn’t know about that,” Aunt May said.  
  
“Well, it was long before I met you, May. And it’s very common, right?”  
  
“Isn’t he too old for imaginary friends?” Aunt May didn’t sound too convinced, and I wondered what her thoughts were on the matter.  
  
“I won’t deny it’s more frequent in kids, but there’s no age limit for imagination, is there?”  
  
One dessert and a few Google searches later, I admitted that yes, he could be an invisible friend. Uncle Ben and Aunt May seemed happier after that. Especially Uncle Ben, who told me his invisible friend had helped him a lot during his childhood, and he was sure Wade would be good for me too. I had to agree with the sentiment, and Aunt May stopped looking through the window every five minutes after that.  
  
To be honest, there was no way he could not be an imaginary friend. There were so many types, that it felt like a sea of endless possibilities. And I knew I’d just gone through some traumatic experiences, had no friends nearby, and had been feeling lonely and sad before I met Wade. It kind of made sense.  
  
After a while, I said I was feeling sick and went to sleep early, then spent the rest of the night reading Wikipedia articles on anything I could imagine from “Imaginary friend” to “Schizophrenia”. Yeah, anyone can punch me and call me funny names, but no one can torture me as well as myself. The only thing that could make things better would be talking to Wade, but I was afraid. What if he didn’t reply anymore because I’d told Aunt May and Uncle Ben about him? I wish I could say the thought didn’t make me cry.  
  
When Uncle Ben entered my room some hours later, he winced. I must have looked terribly handsome.  
  
“Peter, you can stay at home today if you’re not feeling well. I’ll call your teacher.”  
  
“Thanks, Uncle Ben. Judging by your expression, I guess I should take your kind offer.” I’d have bowed had I been standing up.  
  
“Good.” He smiled. “I’m going to work now; call me if you need anything.”  
  
“Don’t worry, I just need to rest.” I tried to smile back  
  
“Make sure you do. And don’t forget the oil and the ice, young man.”  
  
“I won’t. Have a nice day.”  
  
“You too, Peter.” He got to the door and stopped, then turned around. “I may know how you feel, so I wanted to let you know that… Well, in case you feel that way… There’s nothing wrong with you. Having imaginary friends is normal, and you should enjoy it while you can. Wade is your friend now, and even if he’s only inside your mind, you will miss him when he’s gone.” He sighed. “That’s all. Think about it.”  
  
I gulped, but didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded. Uncle Ben closed the door behind him and left me alone with my thoughts.  
  
I tried to get some sleep, but I gave up eventually, when I realized I was starving. I decided to be reasonable and somehow ended up in the kitchen. As soon as I entered the room, my gaze turned to the backyard and I started to imagine myself outside, calling Wade and hearing his reply, then hearing someone else’s voice instead explaining Wade didn’t exist, then hearing nothing and knowing that no one would ever reply. The sound of an alarm shook me from my thoughts, and I had to look around to find its origin. It didn’t take long: I’d been holding the fridge’s door open. Feeling glad no one had seen me spacing out that badly, I quickly picked some stuff to make a sandwich and shut the door close.  
  
I went into the backyard holding my sandwich and got close to the bench, but I didn’t dare sit down or talk. I was still thinking about those made-up scenarios and wondering which one would hurt the most. Luckily, it wasn’t all up to me, cause some of my feathered friends came flying to my rescue. I’d made the mistake of feeding some animals during the month I’d spent talking to them and the plants, and now they felt it was my duty to feed them first whenever I had some food with me. I happily obliged, and was surprised to see my two robins were bringing some friends to share their food with.  
  
“My dear friends, is that four of you now? I’ll just have to name you! Of course, you have to be Dick, and you, little gentleman—”  
  
“Peter?” a well-known voice interrupted me.  
  
I froze mid-sentence, my heart thumping in my ears.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Wade asked.  
  
“I thought you weren’t going to talk to me anymore.”  
  
I realized I was being a petty child, but I didn’t care. He had hurt my feelings by not replying the day before.  
  
He took his time to answer my passive-aggressive question.  
  
“Sorry…” he mumbled after a while. And then, as if the interruption hadn’t taken place, “Are you sick? Is it because of Thompson?”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
Yep, definitely childish.  
  
“Oh… OK.” Wade gave up too easily.  
  
After a few moments of awkward silence, I sighed.  
  
“I’d rather talk about a different Flash, you know?”  
  
And Wade, of course, knew.  
  
“I’ve been thinking and… I really like Barry Allen’s costume. Red is a cool color for a superhero, don’t you think?” he asked.  
  
“Well, you know what? I think blue would be a cool color too.”  
  
I heard Wade’s laughter and it made me forgive him, even if I wasn’t ready to forget just yet.  
  
“Can’t argue with that,” he admitted. “But I’d rather stick to red. You can keep blue for yourself. It’d suit you.”  
  
“Suit me, huh? Well then, I might keep them both. And black too.”  
  
“Well, I refuse to wear yellow spandex. I’d rather go naked,” Wade announced.  
  
“There are other colors, Wade.” I tried to sound exasperated.  
  
“Not for me. I’m in love, Peter. It’s red or nothing for me now.”  
  
“Well, we could always have a _Who Wore It Best_ contest…” I teased.  
  
“And you think you’d have a chance? I’m disappointed in you! I thought you were the one who kept his feet on the ground.”  
  
I would have said the same if he’d told me 24 hours earlier, but now I wasn’t so sure. The more I talked to Wade, the more convinced I was: he had to be real. However, I was painfully aware of the fact that I was the only one who thought so. The only one who had heard his voice, too. And he was just a voice for me, I hadn’t even seen him. Was I mad as a hatter if I couldn’t accept his non-existence? Probably, but I couldn’t exactly stop feeling that way just because I wanted to.  
  
“So yeah, you would get his costume. But would you want to get his powers?” I asked, trying to think about something different.  
  
I had previously decided that super-speed was a very good superpower. Come on, I’d be able to sleep more, get to school on time, save people… and I’d never have to get into a car again!  
  
“Well, it wouldn’t be a terrible choice,” Wade replied. “But running everywhere sounds pretty boring. I’d rather fly or teleport.”  
  
I wasn’t so sure myself. Running sounded safer to me.  
  
“What kind of flying?” I asked. “Superman Style? Firestorm Form? Or—”  
  
“Again, I prefer whatever takes minimum effort. So… Superman?” Wade butted in.  
  
“Really? But Firestorm is in flames, man. That’s super hot!” I said using my I’m-totally-serious voice.  
  
“Oh, so you like guys who can turn into fire? I see…” Wade retorted with his you-know-I’m-joking voice. “Are you in love with Firestorm, Pete? Cause I might get a little bit jealous.”  
  
“Oh, no… I…” I hesitated, but I felt compelled to tell him. “I actually find the idea of Firestorm a little disturbing.”  
  
_Well done, Peter, now you’re going to start the topic you wanted to avoid._  
  
“What? Why?” Wade asked. Of _course_ he asked.  
  
“Because the idea of two minds inside the same body creeps me out,” I confessed. “I want my mind for myself; I’m not sharing. Don’t want anyone else inside me…”  
  
“You don’t want _me_ to get inside you?” Wade asked.  
  
“And you wouldn’t want _me_ inside _you_!” I countered.  
  
“Yeah, keep thinking that, if it’s what you want to hear,” Wade said. “But I wouldn’t mind switching.”  
  
“I’m serious!” I exclaimed. “Imagine two people sharing a body. Wouldn’t that be horrible?”  
  
“I guess. Can’t say I’m into necrophiliac threesomes myself.”  
  
“What? WADE! I meant like Firestorm before they help him!"  
  
I sighed.  
  
“Oh, I see!” Wade replied after a while, sounding surprised.  
  
“You can’t be serious,” I warned him, trying to remember everything that had been said. “You weren’t thinking about—”  
  
“Well, it would be awkward if they wanted to fuck their respective wives, wouldn’t it?” he asked, effectively cutting my train of thought. “So yeah, I see why you think it’s creepy.”  
  
“Eeew…” I eloquently summarized.  
  
“Don’t make me call you Prude Pete! You know it’s true!” Wade complained.  
  
“I know. But I didn’t really need the mental image.”  
  
“Then what is it? What frightens you?”  
  
Why did Wade always end up asking the right —or wrong— questions? Was that one of his superpowers?  
  
“I think that… if there were two people inside my head… I wouldn’t know when it was me or the other person, and that frightens me,” I admitted.  
  
“But you would know, wouldn’t you? The problem is you’d be the only one.”  
  
I shuddered and briefly considered the possibility of mentioning what I’d learned about the dissociative identity disorder, then decided against it.  
  
“OK, now I regret bringing up this topic,” I said instead.  
  
Wade forced a laugh, and we stayed silent for a few minutes.  
  
“Peter?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
It was surprising to hear him speak that way. He had never called my name hesitantly before, and it made me think he was afraid. That was a very alarming thought.  
  
“Should I assume that you don’t like the idea of two or more identities sharing the same mind and body?”  
  
“The idea of it happening to me,” I specified. “So I guess being like Firestorm would creep me out.”  
  
“Oh, I see.”  
  
And because Wade was keeping silent once more, and I thought he would leave if I didn’t say anything else, “Why do you ask?”  
  
“Hmm… Asking for a friend?”  
  
I can take a hint too, now and then, so I kindly changed the topic.  
  
“So… why didn’t you reply yesterday? You know, asking for a friend.”  
  
Yeah, I never said I couldn’t be a cruel bastard too.  
  
“Were you… were you angry at me or something?” I asked.  
  
Well, maybe I couldn’t after all.  
  
“I’m not,” Wade replied, choosing to ignore my past tense. “I just don’t want the Sergeant to know about you. Can you be 200% sure your aunt wouldn’t try to help if she knew about me?”  
  
I was 500% sure she would. And Uncle Ben too, of course. Point taken.  
  
“Even I want to help. Who wouldn’t?”  
  
He sighed. “You do help, Peter. But only if I can talk to you. I don’t want him to take that away from me.”  
  
“Don’t worry, no one is going to tell him. I give you my word.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t help it.  
  
“Why doesn’t he let you talk to other people?”  
  
“He has his reasons…”  
  
“Reasons you don’t want to tell me about,” I insisted.  
  
“Not yet,” Wade replied noncommittedly.  
  
I remembered that he had changed the topic when I’d asked him to, that I also had secrets I wanted to keep from him. I dropped the subject. If I wanted to make sure Wade was a real person that happened to be on the other side of the fence, I would have to find other means, because I wasn’t going to become a hypocrite or break my word.  
  
And I knew right then that I’d already decided to find out the truth, whatever it might be. I didn’t know how to do it, but I can be a very pigheaded person when I want to.  
  
I didn’t even suspect that this would become one of the most important decisions in my life, but somehow, it did. I wouldn’t stop trying until I found a way, and I would do it on my own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all the obstacles, it looks like Peter might be doing ok at the moment.
> 
> Now the question is, how long can it last?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all your supportive comments and chokolacat's incredibly helpful beta-reading, I've avoided working on other stuff I should be doing and brought you another chapter sooner than I expected. I'm having too much fun thanks to you guys.
> 
> I hope you all like this new chapter, this time with more princess talk because yingsu said she liked it on chapter 2.

I respected Wade’s wishes for a few days. Especially since I didn’t want to tell him about my visit to the psychiatrist. Anyway, it wasn’t relevant. Nothing important he should know about. It wasn’t as if I had to constantly avoid the issue because I had told him absolutely everything about me except that.  
  
Aunt May had come back home one day saying she’d gotten the number of a psychiatrist whose office was within walking distance of our home. She had volunteered to come with me if I wanted to ask for an appointment, but I told her I preferred to go alone, and she understood.  
  
I still wasn’t sure if Wade was real or not, but I didn’t need to know. I just had to keep my word and make sure no one else would want to investigate. It wouldn’t be hard to accomplish if I knew what I was expected to say, and the World Wide Web proved to be my most trusted companion once again.  
  
I wasn’t even lying when I told the psychiatrist that I thought Wade was an imaginary friend. I always doubted myself, so the only moment in which I believed he was real was when we were actually talking, a feeling that disappeared as soon as I left the backyard every day, as if that was the only place in the world where Wade could exist. And maybe it was.  
  
After hearing my story, the psychiatrist thought my traumatic experiences and lack of social interaction at school could have prompted this harmless development, and I agreed. She might be right, after all. She offered to talk to my family to change schools or attend some kind of group therapy, but I didn’t want any of that, and she respected my wishes. She had treated me like an adult and I felt thankful, if a little guilty knowing I hadn’t told her everything.  
  
I knew I had to tell Wade everything at some point, but I didn’t know how or when, and I was scared of the possible outcome. Would he be angry at me for doubting him? Would he disappear like a spell that had clouded my mind until I had dared to utter the truth out loud? Maybe I’ve been watching too many films lately; my imagination is clearly out of control.  
  
“So how is our favorite Flash doing? Giving you any trouble?” Wade asked two days after I’d been to the psychiatrist’s. The mention of Flash made me cringe.  
  
_Guess I’ve come to despise the name a bit after all. Thank you, Thompson._  
  
“Not yet. He’s still avoiding me,” I was happy to say.  
  
“Well, I don’t count it as a loss.”  
  
Neither did I.  
  
Thompson had been avoiding me since the day I’d come back to class with half my face still bruised and swollen. Of course, people had noticed, and many students suspected him. Maybe some of the teachers too. They had asked me, at least, but I had held my ground saying it had been a misunderstanding and it wouldn’t happen again. I hoped I wasn’t lying, though I knew I was. Thompson’s glare every morning promised this wasn’t over yet.  
  
“I even spent my break with someone else today. That should make him happy,” I added.  
  
“Not Mary Jane?” Wade asked. “Who is this very important person?”  
  
“Her name’s Jessica, but—”  
  
“It’s a girl! I knew it!” Wade interrupted me. “Is she hot? Are you dating already? Did you tell her I’m single? Does she have a friend? Or a sister? Or a mother? Or a TWIN SISTER? We should totally go on a double date with the twins, Pete. I won’t take a no for an answer, and OH MY GOD ARE YOU THINKING WHAT I’M THINKING?”  
  
“Probably not,” I managed to interpolate, but I don’t think he heard.  
  
“Siamese twins!”  
  
“Yeah, probably not.” I sighed. “Wade, no. Just… don’t, please.”  
  
“Why? What’s wrong with you?”  
  
I didn’t know how to make him understand, but in the end I didn’t have to.  
  
“What’s that music?” he asked.  
  
“Oops! Sorry, Wade, I have to answer this. Wait a sec.” I didn’t wait for his reply. “Harry?”  
  
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”  
  
I somehow managed to get my cell phone away in time to partially save my hearing, but I still got war flashbacks from Normandy and previous birthdays.  
  
“I can’t believe it! You get me every year!” I complained.  
  
“Because you always forget! And I even stooped to make a phonecall. For the impact!” I knew the gestures he would be making, and it made me smile.  
  
“You sacrificed your ethics for me? I’m flattered.”  
  
“You should thank me.”  
  
“Yeah, thank you, you’re the best friend anyone could ask for.” I hoped he would know I was rolling my eyes as I said that. He must have, because he laughed.  
  
We talked for a while about high school and my former classmates, and then about meeting over the weekend for some kind of celebration.  
  
“Just you and me?” he asked. “What about your new classmates? Won’t you invite anyone?”  
  
“You know me!” I said cheerfully.  
  
“Yeah, I do.” He sounded serious then, and my smug smile faded. “Have you had any trouble? Please tell me you’ve tried to make friends at least.”  
  
“I’ll have you know I’ve been talking to a couple of girls, so you don’t have to worry.”  
  
“Oooh, girls! In plural!” he seemed genuinely happy, so I sighed as loudly as I could, to make sure he would hear it. “That’s my Peter! So, do you like any of them? Are they interested in—?”  
  
“What’s with everyone today? You’re all obsessed with the idea of me dating girls I’m not even friends with,” I grumbled, and then I remembered Wade and it felt like a punch in the gut. “Shit! Sorry, Harry, I gotta hang up! I’ll see you this weekend, right?”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Peter! Me and my mouth!” He sounded very upset, and I wondered why. “I’m sorry I made you remember…”  
  
Then I realized he was thinking about Gwen, just as I should have been. But no, I’d been thinking about Wade, and that made me feel terribly guilty for some reason I couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe because I had forgotten first Wade and then Gwen? What was wrong with me?  
  
“No! Harry, that’s not it. I wasn’t—” I mumbled. “Look, I was doing something important, and I don’t really know for how long we’ve been talking. I have to go.”  
  
We promised to keep in touch, and I turned to the fence as soon as I hung up.  
  
“I hope you’re still there,” I said, staring at the roses.  
  
“I am,” Wade replied with a deep voice I didn’t really like.  
  
“I’m sorry, Wade. I should have finished earlier.”  
  
“It’s all right.” Still that voice. “He’s your best friend and… it’s your birthday today, isn’t it? I didn’t know.”  
  
“I didn’t think it was important enough to mention.” I shrugged.  
  
“Well, now you can’t complain if I don’t give you a present, ok?”  
  
“I never  would.” I laughed. “Anyway, I only wanted to talk to you.”  
  
“Good,” he replied. “Harry and you… You guys really know each other, huh?”  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“I see,” he whispered so low I almost couldn’t hear him. “Well, I just realized there is something I can give you!”  
  
“You don’t have to give me anything!” I objected.  
  
“But I want to! If… if you want it, that is.”  
  
He sounded uncertain and a bit shy, so I got curious.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
He took ages to answer.  
  
“I thought I could let you ask me some personal questions. If you want to. I can’t promise I’ll reply all of them, but I’d try.”  
  
I gaped. There was nothing else I could do after hearing that.  
  
“I know it’s not much, and you’re probably not interested anyway,” he continued. “I’m sorry. Forget it.”  
  
“No! Wade!” I managed at last. “I think it is a big deal, and I’m just… It took me by surprise, OK? And I am truly interested, in case you were wondering.”  
  
“Really?” He sounded hopeful. “OK then, what do you want to know?”  
  
I decided to start with something easy.  
  
“When is your birthday?”  
  
I heard Wade groan on the other side of the fence.  
  
“Now you’re going to think I don’t want to reply, but I _really_ don’t remember. I’m so sorry, Pete.”  
  
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll try to think about another one.” I tried to make light of it, but I was getting worried.  
  
_Don’t ask him if he’s real. Don’t ask him if he’s real. Don’t ask him if he’s real._  
  
“Let’s see… How are you related to Mr. Wilson?”  
  
As soon as I said it, I wanted to take my words back, but Wade didn’t let me.  
  
“You won’t get angry if I don’t answer your questions?”  
  
“Never! Please tell me if you don’t want to answer.”  
  
Wade stayed silent for a while.  
  
“Quiz time!” he exclaimed. “What’s the word Willy Wonka couldn’t say?”  
  
“Father?” I asked.  
  
“I like Willy Wonka! He has the coolest initials, you know?”  
  
“I know, I know,” I replied, desperately trying to sound dismissive.  
  
I didn’t want to take advantage of his kind offer, so I continued with some inane questions that —I hoped— wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. I even used Facebook to search for more silly questions, and I think it worked! I swear I felt incredibly thankful for his unexpected present, which was helping me see him as a real person once again, but I didn’t want him to regret it. It was unsettling to see he knew me better than myself, but this was just what I needed.  
  
“Which Disney Princess do you most identify with?” I read from a test someone had shared.  
  
“Is that really a question?” he asked.  
  
“Just answer it!”  
  
“Rapunzel, obviously.”  
  
I was about to ask why when I realized.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s because her _mother_ doesn’t let her get out or talk to anyone. But do me a favor and don’t say you’re sorry.”  
  
“I’m— Ugh.”  
  
I felt tempted to tell him to stop reading my mind.  
  
“And don’t ask if Belle would also be an option. I wish!”  
  
“I wasn’t going to,” I was happy to announce, “but now that you mention it, what about Jasmine? She also felt trapped inside the palace, right?”  
  
“I hate that film. It always makes me cry.”  
  
After a while, I realized I wasn’t being fair. I remembered how uncomfortable and upset personal questions had made him feel in the past, and I noticed how he was just answering one after another, trying to be as honest as he could. It hadn’t been my intention to make things so one-sided, and I wanted to reciprocate.  
  
“That’s enough!” I said as soon as he finished answering I don’t remember what. “I’ve asked too many questions. It’s your turn now.”  
  
“But it’s your birthday present! And you’re asking silly questions, anyway, so they shouldn’t count!”  
  
“Wade Winston Wilson!” I had just learned his middle name and I was making good use of it. Had been for the last twenty minutes. “This is outrageous! How dare you call my questions silly? I object!”  
  
“You just asked me if I poured the milk after or before the cereals!”  
  
“It’s a very important question. I can’t be called your friend if I don’t know that.”  
  
It was so unusual, I had to hold back my laughter at the scene: Wade being serious for once, while I tried to turn things against myself.  
  
“Fine. I take it back. But I know you, and I know you’re not asking the questions you’d want me to answer today.” Wade sounded annoyed, and I could see why. “I’m not stupid, Peter. I’d tell you about my milk any other day, so why aren’t you asking the real questions?”  
  
“I will, if you ask me something in return,” I bargained.  
  
“What do you want me to ask? You already tell me everything!” That was a lie, but he didn’t know. “That’s why I wanted to answer some of your questions. Cause you know nothing about me, but really, is there anything I don’t know about you?”  
  
“There is,” I whispered.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
I didn’t know if he was shocked or if I had talked too low.  
  
“I said there is something I haven’t told you,” I confessed, clenching my fists. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to do it.”  
  
“Well, you don’t have to tell me everything, but if you really want to, just go ahead,” he encouraged me. “You know I don’t care about the how.”  
  
I stayed silent until he got worried and asked if I was still there.  
  
“I’ve been to the psychiatrist, because everyone thinks you are not real,” I blurted out. “And I don’t know what to think anymore.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Peter finally "confessed" and told Wade the only thing he's been keeping away from him.  
> And now he has to know how Wade reacts, right?
> 
> Will we get a "Peter reacts to... Wade reacts to Peter" now that those brothers aren't suing people anymore?  
> Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has become my most popular fanfic, and I wanted to thank you all for making this possible.  
> I hope you're still enjoying it, and if you have any thoughts or suggestions, feel welcome to share them.  
> I try to reply all comments and take them into account if possible.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thanks to chokolacat for her beta-reading and energiaoscura for her request.  
> She was the one to tell me I should write a Spideypool fanfic in English, so it's all her fault!  
> And it's chokolacat's fault I can do it in English and update so often ;)

“I’ve been to the psychiatrist, because everyone thinks you are not real,” I blurted out. “And I don’t know what to think anymore.”  
  
Silence was his only answer, and I panicked. Had he really disappeared?  
  
“Wade?”  
  
“Yes, I’m listening. Is that all?”  
  
I’d never felt so thankful to hear Wade’s voice in my life. And I’d felt very thankful many times already, but there was no comparison between those moments and the feeling that overwhelmed me then, when he asked me if that was all I had to say, as if he was waiting for me to say something that was actually bad.  
  
“Y-yes. Yes, that’s it. Are you angry?”  
  
I fought to contain my nervous laughter.  
  
“Why would I be angry? Don’t worry about it, Pete,” he said with his softest voice. “Things like that can happen. I mean, look at me!”  
  
“I can’t. There’s a white fence in the way.”  
  
Wade laughed much more than that lame and bad-timed pun deserved, but I was able to join him. It made me feel better, and also secretly proud of myself for making him laugh when I was still screaming inside.  
  
“Oh, yeah, you’re so witty, Peter.” He somehow managed to make it sound like baby talk. “I meant I… I… hear voices sometimes. Inside my head.”  
  
I think my heart stopped at that moment. I had considered many different outcomes and how I should react, but this was not among my possible scenarios. I had been wondering about him being a voice inside my head for so long, that I couldn’t just start thinking that he had the same problem I’d been afraid of. What did this mean? Was he real then? Or did the voice inside my head hear voices?  
  
“So you have imaginary friends or… what?” I forced myself to ask to avoid an uncomfortable silence.  
  
“The what, I guess. And I also… I also make up stories in my head. Kinda.”  
  
“Isn’t that normal? I do that, too.” What was I doing? I wanted to fill the silence, but I didn’t want to keep talking. I wasn’t thinking about this at all; I’d end up saying something I would regret. “When someone is lonely and bored—”  
He thankfully interrupted me.  
  
“The difference being I sometimes can’t tell the difference.”  
  
I had nothing to say to that. This was so out of my league, I didn’t know what to do or how to react. Maybe I could keep him talking to give me more time.  
  
“Oh. But you can tell I’m a real person?” I asked.  
  
“I actually thought you were a new voice at first.”  
  
_OK, this is relevant to my interests. I can work with this. Ask him for advice. This is good._  
  
“How did you realize I wasn’t?”  
  
“How did you?” he asked back.  
  
“I…”  
  
I had no words. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I couldn’t say I hadn’t realized. Yet he had gone through something similar, so he might be able to understand, maybe even help.  
  
“I just want you to be real,” I admitted at last.  
  
“Oh, shut up, you! You’re going to make me blush!”  
  
I could sense him fake-drying his tears from the other side of the fence,  and I rolled my eyes as loud as I could in response. Wade’s muffled laugh made me smile, like always. It didn’t last long when a new thought came to my mind.  
  
“So… Is that the reason why you have to stay at home?” I asked, afraid he’d say yes, afraid he’d say no and there was something worse I didn’t even know about.  
  
“Yes and no.” He was making some kind of rhythmic noise —with his feet, I thought—, probably nervous, and I resolved to stop the third degree immediately. Of course, he continued before I could tell him to stop. “Apparently, the sergeant doesn’t want me in an asylum.”  
  
I held onto the armrest.  
  
“Does he think you’re mad?” I hoped he wouldn’t feel offended by my assumption.  
  
“He knows. I am mad, Peter.” His deep voice was back again. “I think it is time you know that too.”  
  
So if he wasn’t real, that meant I had a problem, and if he were real, he actually would be… Were those my only options? Either he was mad or I was? That’s what it seemed, and I needed time to figure things out.  
  
“Thank you for your present, Wade. It’s the first one I receive today, and I really appreciate it.”  
  
“No problem. Wish I could have given you a more physical one, though,” he said, his tone lighter.  
  
“No, no, no. This was perfect, really. It was just what I needed, I think.”  
  
“Well, good to know.” I imagined him shrugging. “So you won’t stop talking to me now that I told you?”  
  
“Of course not!” I was so upset, I stood up. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends don’t do that!”  
  
He mumbled something I didn’t understand. I waited.  
  
“Fine, I’ll take it,” he groaned after a while. “Then tell me how your birthday party will be! Are you doing anything special today?”  
  
I didn’t want anything special. I didn’t feel like I could celebrate my birthday without my parents and Gwen. But I knew Aunt May and Uncle Ben would want to do something. And it was a good excuse to see Harry for the first time in two months. So I told Wade what I thought I could expect: the dinner, the presents, the cinema on Saturday… I didn’t know if I should say it, so I didn’t, but I wished he could have joined us. Things would be so much better with him… But there was no point in reminding him that he couldn’t get out of his house. Or that I now knew the reason.  
  
That night, as I was trying to sleep and digest the delicious dinner I’d had with Aunt May and Uncle Ben —complete with birthday cake and song—, I remembered the last time I had watched a film with Harry and Gwen. It had been _Kung Fury_ , at Harry’s place, and we’d liked it so much, we’d watched it again as soon as it ended. The memories clouded my mind and made me wonder if I would ever be able to watch that film again.  
  
“Maybe not yet, Peter, but wait ten or twenty years,” my father had told me when I said I would never have another girlfriend. “You’re still young. You’ll get over it, just remember to be patient. Time will make things better.”  
  
And two months later, he’d died. And I’d learned that time only blunts the pain because bad things keep happening to you. That’s life, I guess. But I didn’t have to like it, and it was better now I didn’t have to pretend. I still didn’t feel like having a new girlfriend, new parents, or repeating the things we’d done together when they were alive.  
  
The last conscious thought I had before falling asleep was a vague reminder to ask Wade if he had watched _Kung Fury_. I knew he’d love it.  
  
Maybe that’s what triggered the dreams I had that night. Or maybe it was the previous conversation we’d had, deep and heavy with so many revelations. No matter the cause, the result was the same: I had a dream about Wade that night.  
  
It wasn’t special or interesting, but it was the first time that had happened. In my dream, Wade was real. There was no fence and I could see he had a body, but he didn’t have a face. I wasn’t scared, because he had Wade’s voice and I knew it was him. I was certain in that way one can only be inside a dream, almost as if you could see from the other’s point of view. As if, given the chance, you could swap minds and learn things you could never have known if you just kept being yourself.  
  
I didn’t do that with Wade, but I saw him. I talked to him. I touched him. And then I suddenly woke up and stared at the ceiling, wishing it had not been just a dream.

 

  
The rest of the week passed in a haze, and I didn’t have any dreams about weird faceless people that were supposed to be my friends. I did have a subtle —or so I hoped— conversation with Aunt May regarding mental hospitals, and she confirmed that some families didn’t trust them and preferred to take care of their beloved ones on their own, even though it had proved to be counterproductive or worse for their own safety. I didn’t think this was Wade’s case, but it was a sound theory, and I did want to believe it. What other reason could Mr. Wilson possibly have?  
  
When I saw Harry over the weekend, he proceeded to question me about the people I’d met at my new high school, so I told him about Mary Jane and her strange obsession with _Arrow_. I avoided mentioning her friend in case he would ask what she looked like, but Harry had apparently become a big Canary fan in the past few months, and he didn’t talk about anything else until we got into the theater. I wished I had invited Mary Jane just so they could talk about _Arrow_ to their hearts’ content. Maybe next time, I promised myself. I really hoped there would be a next time. Then I wished next time would somehow involve Wade. Just so I could have someone to back me up if both of them turned against _The Flash_ , of course. I wondered why I hadn’t told Harry about Wade yet.  
  
I thought he had forgotten about our conversation on the phone, but he hadn’t. As soon as we got out of the theater, he asked me, “you said you’d been talking to two girls, right? Who is the other one?”  
  
“Oh, her name is Jessica. She’s so quiet, I hadn’t even heard her voice until Mr. Banner made us work together with a guy called Jonathan. We’re supposed to be on the same team. She seldom speaks in class, but she turned out to be quite nice when it’s just the three of us,” I said.  
  
“What about the Jonathan guy?”  
  
“Well, Johnny’s not a bad person,” I tried to explain. “He was nice to me at the beginning, and he’s super nice to all the girls. And not in a creepy way.”  
  
“At the beginning,” Harry repeated, eyes narrowing. Of course he’d notice.  
  
“Don’t take it that way. He’s just… difficult to work with.”  
  
“I know how well you can avoid a topic, Peter. What did he do to you?”  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Nothing, really. But he wants to do things on his own, not with us. Looks like he doesn’t trust me to be as good as Mr. Banner said I was when he put us together. And why would he? Don’t they usually put the best guys with the worst ones so they can help them?”  
  
“Or you could get the best ones, let them have fun together, but demand more from them,” Harry said.  
  
“Well, the story is… Mr. Banner knows someone at Stark Industries, and he wants us to take part in one of their annual contests for young people.” I wondered if he knew about them already, but he didn’t say anything. “And they have three categories: individual, teams, and whole classes. We’re working in teams this year, and not everyone is happy. I’ve heard Johnny is an amateur mechanic or something. Maybe he wants to be an engineer? He definitely thinks he should win that contest. And he probably thinks I’m going to make him fail,” I confessed.  
  
“Well, you’ll show him he’s wrong. You can tell him you know someone at Oscorp who thinks so. Bet he can’t say the same thing, huh?” He winked at me. “And what about Jessica?”  
  
“He never questioned her, I guess they know each other.” I noticed his exasperated sigh. “Oh, you mean how we— Well, we’ve been working on our assignments together and making real progress. She has very interesting ideas and said she was glad I was in their team.” Harry smiled at that. “Don’t get the wrong idea. You know it’s not like that.”  
  
“I’m just glad someone can appreciate how good you are!” Harry defended himself.  
  
“Well, when you put it that way…”  
  
Again, I wondered why I was so careful to not mention Wade when I was with him. It had been the right moment then, and I’d avoided it. Well, I didn’t want him to think I was mad, but it was Harry! He was amazing, and clever, and he would understand. So why didn’t I tell him?  
  
I changed the topic and we talked about videogames until I had to leave. Harry offered to give me a ride home, but I refused. He just smiled and said he would make sure to remember next time, and choose somewhere closer to my new home. I thanked him, and felt really bad for keeping things from him, but still didn’t tell him about Wade before I rushed back home.  
  
I was surprised to find Aunt May in the backyard, watering the plants.  
  
“Welcome back, Peter. I think a friend of yours came to visit you,” she said smiling. “You just missed him.”  
  
I nearly got a heart attack before I realized she wouldn’t be talking about Wade that way. Looks like I’d been thinking about him too much if that’d been my first thought. How could I have forgotten my feline friends?  
  
“Which one? The black one or the white one?” I asked.  
  
“Oh, there’s a black cat too?” Aunt May looked around as if the cat would magically appear when mentioned. Cats do that kind of thing sometimes, I guess.  
  
“And a ginger one,” I replied. “But that’s a she, so I knew you couldn’t be talking about her.”  
  
She laughed and asked me about my day and the movie, about Harry and his family, and I was happy to tell her about them, if not about myself. After a while, I started to sense Wade on the other side of the fence — the way I couldn’t explain—, and she must have noticed something.  
  
“Oh, I guess you’ve missed him,” she said looking at the fence, so I had no doubt about who she meant.  
  
“I guess so too,” I confessed.  
  
“You must be hungry,” she said winking and giving me the garden hose as she left. “I’ll go make something for dinner, so please finish watering the plants for me.”  
  
I turned to the fence with what must have been a shocked expression. Understanding, incredibly kind Aunt May had left me alone so I could be with Wade, and I intended to make the most of the time we had left until dinner. Unfortunately, Wade was not feeling the same way. I talked to all the rose bushes, the trees, the white cat —in case he was still around— and even to myself. I said countless times that I was alone, that Aunt May had left, and still I got no answer.  
  
Wade didn’t talk to me that day, and I went to bed wondering if I’d done something wrong, worried about the possibility of the presence being that of Mr. Wilson and not Wade, trying to recall everything I’d said in the backyard. I was already falling asleep when I remembered that Wade was supposed to be an invisible friend that would one day disappear. I had nightmares that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not knowing if Wade is real means that every day he's not talking, Peter wonders if he's vanished forever.
> 
> He also has other problems he should be worrying about, like getting over all those losses, high school, and avoiding Flash Thompson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, welcome to what just became my longest and most read fanfic.  
> Thank you all for reading this!  
> I'll try to update soon, because I decided to split one chapter in two, so I've been working on the following one too.
> 
> And before I shut up and let you read:  
> THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT!  
> I hope you're all enjoying it as much as I am.
> 
> And thank you, chokolacat, for beta-reading even when you're so busy. You're my saviour!

After Wade’s silence followed by the nightmares, I woke up feeling quite shaken, and wondering if I could just go back to sleep until I forgot everything. It wasn’t such an appealing option, really, if you took the nightmares into account, but the prospect of facing the white picket fence was simply terrifying.  
  
I managed to avoid the backyard by spending the morning with Uncle Ben. I helped him convert some albums to mp3, and then we transferred the songs to his new mp3 player. I was surprised they were still making those, to be honest. I thought smartphones had replaced mp3 players and cameras everywhere, but I guess I was mistaken.  
  
“Are you OK, Peter? You seem tired!” Uncle Ben said after I’d facedesked for the third time.  
  
Is there a better way to wake you up when you start daydreaming about your imaginary friend? If there was, I didn’t know about it, so I gladly resorted to pain before it got too embarrassing.  
  
“Yeah, I still have nightmares sometimes.” It was true, and that meant I had the right to look tired.  
  
“Do you want to talk about them?”  
  
I finally unglued my face from the desk and looked him in the eye.  
  
“Not really. Sorry.”  
  
“Don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but maybe you could try to tell Wade. I’m sure it would make you feel better afterward. Or at least, it won’t make you feel worse. Think about it!” He tapped my head and left me alone with my thoughts. Just what I needed.  
  
  
  
After lunch, I had mulled it over for long enough to feel bored and annoyed, so I got back to the backyard and just started talking. Wade didn’t want to talk to me? Very well. I could talk to him anyway, right? This is a free country, or so they say.  
  
For some reason, I decided I would torture him with my problems. Why not? If he was an imaginary friend, that’s what he was for, right?  
  
So once again, I found myself in the backyard, telling him everything. I’d previously mentioned the panic attacks I suffered every time I rode a car, so I sat down and started talking about the related nightmares that had been haunting most of my nights for the last six months. And again, I just knew he was there, but he didn’t reply.  
  
“Not being able to take Harry’s offer meant I had to walk back home from the mall yesterday… Well, I actually ran back home, because I wanted to… to talk to you, and when I got here you didn’t even say anything! What did I do wrong? And why won’t you tell me?” My voice actually broke, but I didn’t stop there. My anger was turning into something else, but I was on a roll. “Come on, dude! I’ve had a terrible night and I need you. I know it is selfish, but I miss… you.”  
  
_Good job, Peter. That’s so much better than saying “I miss your voice”. It doesn’t sound gay at all. Now he definitely won’t talk to you any—_  
  
“Really?” came the unexpected but hoped-for reply.  
  
And just like that, I was able to breathe again.  
  
“Shit, I thought you were gone forever!” I can’t begin to explain how thankful I was. “I really did miss you, Wade.”  
  
“I thought you missed Harry more?” Wade asked with a high-pitched voice.  
  
I pretended I was thinking about it for a while.  
  
“Well, I actually feel bad for saying this, because he’s always been my best friend and has helped me countless times before, but… I’ve actually missed you more?” _What the hell, Peter? That does sound like a confession. You’re going to scare him to death._ “I think. Maybe.”  
  
“Oh…”  
  
I waited for a while, but I wasn’t feeling patient that day. Nope. I was the one feeling scared. I didn’t want Wade to stop talking, because I was afraid that he’d revert to his previous silence.  
  
“Sorry, is that bad?” I asked him.  
  
“No, no, that’s… wonderful, actually. Thank you.”  
  
“Well, then... What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”  
  
“You wanna know why I wasn’t in the mood for a little chatter after you spent the day away with your b-bestie?”  
  
“Yes, cause it’s the first time you’ve been upset after I’ve been out, and it made me wonder.”  
  
“Oh,” Wade whispered. “Is that what you want to hear? That I was upset because of that?”  
  
“I want the truth,” I insisted.  
  
“I could tell you so many truths… Which one do you want?” he asked me. And he seemed sincere, but I didn’t understand what he meant.  
  
“I’ll let you decide that.”  
  
I took a stick from the ground and proceeded to split it into very short pieces while I waited.  
  
“Look, Peter. I’d love to talk to you every single day, but it’s impossible. I get depressed and paranoid easily, so this will happen again. I’m sure. And you should know that I’ll be sorry whenever it happens.”  
  
“That’s really not what I wanted to hear,” I confessed, hoping it wouldn’t happen ever again. “But thank you for telling me.”  
  
“You wanted the truth…”  
  
“Yeah, thank you.”  
  
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for being so annoying. I’m sure you must hate me already.”  
  
“Wade, you’re not annoying. I’ve told you before: you’re my friend, so I’d like to help you, but I can be patient. And I’d never hate you, OK? Stop worrying about it.”  
  
“You think so? Cause I’m sure you’d hate me if we’d met any other way.”  
  
I sighed, but he probably noticed I was smiling once I started to talk.  
  
“Well, you were sure I hated you, and that isn’t true either, so… go figure!” I felt I had won the argument, so I gave in and actually snorted. “Besides, I…”  
  
And then I remembered the dreams I hadn’t talked about, and the nightmares I’d described in excruciating detail, and realized I needed to avoid that topic at all costs. No more depressing or confusing stuff for Wade.  
  
“I wonder… How come we’ve never talked about YouTube, man?” I asked with the best of intentions, which ranged from avoidance to denial.  
  
“Because I don’t have access to the Internet?”  
  
He asked me as if I had to know that, but had I known he had no access to the Internet?  
  
No.  
  
Should I have assumed that a guy who had mental issues and was supposed to be locked up in his house and avoid contact with any other human being wouldn’t be allowed to get online?  
  
Probably. I guess.  
  
But again, I wasn’t even 70% sure he was real, and teen guys are the most insensitive animals in the whole universe, so who can blame me?  
  
I know I do.  
  
“Well, my Wi-Fi reaches here, so we should fix that right now.”  
  
“You know I won’t be able to see anything, right?”  
  
And that I did know.  
  
“There are so many videos you don’t have to see to find hilarious! I’ll just play them for you.”  
  
I quickly found what I was looking for and waited for his reaction.  
  
I didn’t have to wait long. Mere seconds after the music had started playing, he went, “Oh, I know that one. I do have a TV, if you’ll remember”.  
  
“Damn! OK, I’ll find something I haven’t seen on TV… Do you know the Potter Puppet Pals?”  
  
“Nope. Is that something Harry Potter?”  
  
So it was kind of sad that I couldn’t be the one to introduce Wade to _What Does the Fox Say?_ , but at least I had some aces up my sleeve. I made him listen to _Harry Potter in 99 seconds_ after that, and then the _Pokémon Theme Song REVENGE_ , because why not. I wished I could have shown him the L _iteral Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood Trailer_ one too, but you really had to see that to fully appreciate it. Some _Taking the Hobbits to Isengard_ , G _oogle Translate Sings_ and _Epic Rap Battles of History_ later, we were back to our usual banter. It was like nothing had ever happened.  
  
  
  
I was still in a good mood when the school week started. Mary Jane was in a good mood too, and she couldn’t stop talking about her amazing weekend, which was completely fine with me. Jessica wasn’t that vocal when I met her over lunch, but we ended up having an interesting discussion about the Force, the midi-chlorians, and hyperdrive travel. At some point, I realized Johnny was staring at us and I waved, feeling bold, but he turned away and sat with Thompson.  
  
Ouch.  
  
Well, at least now I knew Johnny had a reason to hate me. If he was friends with Thompson, he would have to deal with the wrong kind of peer pressure, and I could count myself lucky if he was being civil. It was unfortunate that we would have to spend all year working together on the same project, but he would have to get over it if he wanted to win that contest. I turned back to Jessica and resumed our conversation in a lower tone, aware of the fact that Thompson and Johnny were looking at us—I would say me, but I want to seem humble—and talking.  
  
Next time I looked their way, Thompson had left and Johnny was having lunch all alone, his back to us.  
  
I didn’t see Thompson again until classes had ended, and I found him on my way out, surrounded by a select sample of the school’s football team. It was an enlightening experience that made me understand why he’d called me puny. Where did they get teens like that? Were they really in high school?  
  
I tried to sneak away unnoticed, but I had no such luck.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t Pussy Parker.”  
  
Great, now I had a new nickname. I briefly wondered what the inspiration was for that one. Briefly, because he kind of explained it right away. Thompson clearly wasn’t one for suspense.  
  
“Aren’t you going with the rest of the girls today? I thought you had become one of them to make some friends, but I guess they don’t like you either, huh?”  
  
His friends laughed and I clenched my fists as I swallowed the words “You wish” and walked away. They were still yelling and laughing, even though I was too far to understand anything they said. The intent was clear, though, and I felt anger boiling inside of me. Would they do the same if they met a trans or gay kid?  
  
For the first time in my life, I felt like I wanted to punch someone so hard that he would become a good person. Of course, I knew that violence wouldn’t accomplish anything, especially if it came from my puny self, so I got back home and straight into the backyard.  
  
Basically, life was what happened between backyard sessions, am I right?  
  
“What about bi or pan kids?” Wade asked after I’d vented my frustration, making me proud of being his friend. “Wouldn’t he attack those too?”  
  
“I don’t think he even knows what pansexual means, but thank you for making me worry even more.”  
  
“Oops, you’re welcome,” he replied smiling. “But Peter, the suspense is killing me. What is your new nickname?”  
  
That’s exactly what I’d wanted to hear. I can’t even brag about me being better, because Thompson hadn’t been trying at all, but I felt satisfied.  
  
“Pussy Parker.”  
  
“Pussy? No way!” Wade cackled. “Are you sure he’s 15? I’m starting to think he’s more like 12.”  
  
I rolled my eyes at that, but I didn’t say anything, because those comments always left me wondering if he thought I was too young.  
  
“Did you come up with a better one this time?”  
  
“Oh, this time I wanted to join you. If you have to be Pussy, I can be Wussy. And they’ll call us… Pussy and Wussy!”  
  
I smothered a laugh with my hand so I could reply.  
  
“Wussy, did you ever imagine we would end like this?”  
  
“Well, the horse is a surprise…”  
  
I couldn’t stifle my laughter anymore.  
  
“It does sound like a cartoon for children, right?” Wade asked, pride heavy in his voice.  
  
“It would be a very weird one. Maybe a couple of comedians?”  
  
“We’d make a good couple, don’tcha think?”  
  
“Of course!” I wholeheartedly agreed.  
  
I suddenly felt the urge to thank him for all his help. To let him know how much I owed him, how much I needed him. But I didn’t want to get too sappy, and I’ll always regret it.  
  
Had I known what would happen the following day, I wouldn’t have left without making sure he understood what he meant to me. I thought I could tell him any other day, but I should have known better.  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if the week started like any other week, this one will turn out to be quite special.
> 
> Maybe not all will be good, but Peter should learn to appreciate these good chapters... I mean, moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter makes the use of the High School AU tag more legit, because I'm going to add it now.
> 
> Let me know if you want me to add any other tags! And if you liked it, I may give you more high school shenanigans in the future.
> 
> All beta-reading credit goes to the awesome chokolacat. Thank you, chokolacat.  
> And thank you all for your wonderful comments.

The following day, nothing turned out as I had expected. First of all, I didn’t go to class alone. Uncle Ben had to do some paperwork near my high school, so he walked with me. As we were approaching the gates, Johnny Storm appeared out of nowhere, riding a very fancy car next to a beautiful blond lady. He hugged her, jumped out of the car, and said hi to me as he was passing by. I only managed to reply with a greeting of my own because Uncle Ben was right there and I wanted him to think that it was perfectly normal. Otherwise, I’d still be there, gaping like an idiot. But Johnny actually SMILED at me when I uttered a high-pitched “Hi to you, Johnny” that sounded too fangirlish for my taste —and my pride.  
  
Johnny proceeded to embarrass me further, by turning around once he’d reached the gate and yelling that we should get working on our project as soon as possible. I felt my cheeks burning as everyone in the street turned to look at me. I’m not used to being the center of attention.  
  
“Whenever you want,” I barely managed to say. But I nodded, so he could get the meaning if he didn’t hear me.  
  
“See you later, then!” He waved again before he crossed the gate, still smiling… I presumed. Uncle Ben waved back to cover for my lack of reaction.  
  
_…the hell was that about?_  
  
I turned around to face his driver. She nodded at me.  
  
“You must be Peter Parker. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She gestured towards the old building behind me before I could start wondering what she knew about. “Johnny can be a bit annoying sometimes, but he’s not a bad guy. Don’t let him get you in trouble, though.”  
  
“OK. Thank you.”  
  
Annoying. That word reminded me of Wade, of the conversation we’d had the previous day, but I tried to focus on the one I was having right then and there.  
  
“Feel free to come visit anytime,” she was telling me. “You’re welcome to our place whether you guys have to work on your project or whatever.”  
  
“Thank you…for your open invitation.”  
  
“You two can come visit, too,” Uncle Ben added. “Feel free to stay for dinner whenever you want.”  
  
Someone honked. Probably a school bus, because she was on the bus lane and the sound was loud enough to make her jump a bit.  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Parker. Have a good day!”  
  
And just like that, she was gone. That was the moment when I started suspecting they had to be related. Both of them seemed to have a knack to leave me speechless after they’d passed me by, after turning my world upside down in their wake like a… well, like a storm.  
  
I turned to Uncle Ben and wished him good luck with his paperwork, as if nothing unexpected had happened at all. My haste to get inside the building might have given something away, but a group of girls who were sitting on the grass were still staring at me, so I couldn’t help it. Again, I thought that superspeed would be the best superpower… and then I wondered why I felt so nervous every time something reminded me of Wade.  
  
When I crossed the gates, I saw someone familiar and felt relief. It was Jessica, and I thought she would be able to help me.  
  
“Have you seen Johnny today?” I asked.  
  
“Good morning to you too, Peter,” she replied.  
  
“Sorry. Good morning. How are you?”  
  
“Fine, thank you. And you?”  
  
“Now you’re just teasing me.”  
  
“You deserve it.”  
  
I raised my hands in defeat.  
  
“You’re right, and I said I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”  
  
She seemed to consider it, and she must have decided to show me some mercy. Probably because she was curious. “Fine. What happened with Johnny? I saw him this morning and he told me you two are meeting today. Is there anything you want to tell me?”  
  
“What? That’s what I wanted to ask _you_! Did you talk to him and make him change his mind?”  
  
Jessica shrugged and started walking toward our classroom. I followed.  
  
“Maybe. But I’ve talked to him a few times and it never changed a thing,” she admitted. “Why now?”  
  
I was wondering the same thing, and I wanted to ask her what they had been talking about behind my back, but I never got the chance. Mr. Banner intercepted us before we got to the classroom and she ran away.  
  
“Good timing, Peter! I’ve brought the book I told you about. Now I don’t have to carry it around all day!”  
  
Mr. Banner was super nice and he was probably my favorite teacher. I’d been asking him about many science-related (and Wade-related) issues, and he’d always tried to help me. Of course, I hadn’t told him about Wade, so he thought I just had a healthy interest in psychology —which was the topic of the book—, and I wasn’t going to prove him wrong.  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Banner. I’ll try to read it and give it back as soon as possible.”  
  
“Take your time with it,” he said smiling. “Psychology can be a dense subject. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t understand.” He shook his head. “I’m not pretending to be overconfident, I just… I have friends who may be able to help you.”  
  
“Again, thank you. I really appreciate this,” I replied as I took the book he offered me.  
  
He stopped in front of the science lab, and it made me curious. I wanted to stay and take a peek, because we hadn’t had any practical lessons there yet. But I didn’t want to be late for class, so I left.  
  
When I got to the stairs, I realized Jessica had completely vanished. I still had some questions for her, but checking the time I realized that those would have to wait until the break.  
  
When I entered the classroom, the teacher’s place was empty and everyone was talking. I couldn’t find Jessica, but all the students were standing in groups, so I tried to remain inconspicuous as I reached my table. I left the book on top of my desk, sat down avoiding all eye contact, and rummaged in my bag in search of my worn English textbook.  
  
I didn’t talk or pay attention to anyone else. That was my MO, and it was OK. I did get along with the teachers, at least, even if I couldn’t say the same about my classmates. It was their second year together, so the groups of friends had been formed before I had a chance. It was understandable, and I had expected no less. No one cared about the new kid, and I protested by not doing anything that could change that. I was determined to avoid any trouble, and if that meant not interacting with people more than necessary? I could live with that.  
  
Consistent —or stubborn— people like Mary Jane and Jessica had managed to talk to me (and Thompson too, unfortunately), but I didn’t have any plans to improve my relationship with the rest of them. Johnny had come as a surprise, and I still wasn’t that sure about his sudden change of heart.  
  
I mulled it over as I absentmindedly flipped the pages of Mr. Banner’s book, but something made me stop and look at it twice. Someone had slipped a piece of paper inside the book. I took it out and unfolded it, expecting to find Mr. Banner’s forgotten shopping list or something like that, but when I saw the handwriting, I knew it was Jessica’s. She briefly explained how Johnny had wanted to meet us both after class to talk about the project, but she had other plans already, so Johnny wanted to take the chance to get to know me better. I stared at the paper in disbelief. How on Earth had she left that note inside the book? I’d just left it on my table for a few minutes and I’d been there the entire time! Was she a ninja? Then again, it was probably just me spacing out so badly I’d made it to Pluto’s heart and back. And I must have done the same again, because I don’t remember much of what happened until the break started.  
  
Why am I lying to myself? I do remember what I did: worry about everything, despair because I couldn’t find a solution to any of my problems, and make a mental list of things I ought to ask her later. What I didn’t do was pay any attention in class. I only lifted my head when the bell rang, and noticed Jessica was already getting ready to leave, so I ran after her.  
  
“I thought I’d told you what you wanted to know,” she said when she saw me.  
  
“Why did you underline ‘to get to know you better’ twice?” I asked her.  
  
She smiled and shrugged. “No particular reason.”  
  
“Why would you think he wants that?” I asked instead.  
  
“Cause that’s what he said. Duh.”  
  
“He said that?” My face must have reflected the confusion I felt, because she started laughing so much, she had to stop walking.  
  
“Man, calm down. He must have realized he needs you to win his prize.”  
  
“So he’s not being honest?”  
  
“I didn’t say that.” She was serious then. “You’ll be with him today, so make sure to ask him why he was giving you the cold shoulder and what made him change his mind.”  
  
“Will do.” I nodded. “Thank you.”  
  
“Any other question?”  
  
She started to play with her wallet to indicate that she wanted to leave. She was probably going to get something to eat or drink, so I knew she didn’t have much time left until our next class, but there was something else on my mental list. Something that had a mental question mark in a different color, because I hadn’t been sure about asking that particular question.  
  
“Actually, yes. But it’s not related.”  
  
That got her attention, and her hands stilled. “Shoot away, then.”  
  
“Do you think you can like someone you’ve never seen before?”  
  
There. I’d said it. _What the hell, Peter?_  
  
“What the hell, Peter?” she asked, revealing her mind-reading ninja skills. “Are you seriously asking me if blind people can’t like other people?”  
  
“What? No, of course n—”  
  
“Cause if you think you can’t, then you think they can’t either.”  
  
That made me stop to think and calm down.  
  
“Hmm… What about… if you met them online? Like, you’re not sure if they are the person they’re meant to be.”  
  
“Well, there’s only a way to find out for sure. You have to meet them in real life, right? Though you’ll like them until then, anyway. And it’ll be painful and disappointing if they were lying to you.”  
  
“I guess you’re right…”  
  
“Of course I am.” She nodded and turned away, then realized she wanted to say something more. “But Peter, if you go to meet Internet people, it’s dangerous to go alone.” She pointed at herself. “Take me with you, OK? You know I’m being selfish. I’d love to know how it goes first-hand.”  
  
I smiled at that. “Don’t worry. I know, and it’s not like that. It was only a hypothetical question.”  
  
“Mmm… Well, the offer still stands, in case there’s a future need.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” She nodded, pleased, and I let her go at last.  
  
  
  
  
I didn’t see her again that day, probably because I had the bad luck of being the unwilling and reluctant center of attention at the cafeteria.  
  
Not wanting to sit with people I didn’t know, I ended up at the only empty table and waited for Jessica to appear. Mary Jane and Johnny were waiting in line, but I didn’t see Jessica behind them, so I turned to check the line in front of them, and I realized that Thompson was there and had just finished getting his meal. I tried to become invisible as he turned around to scan the room, but it obviously didn’t work. As soon as he saw me, I knew I’d be in trouble soon.  
  
“Move, Parker. I need that table,” he ordered as soon as he was in front of me.  
  
I should have left then. I don’t know why I didn’t. Ah, yeah, I was acting as if nothing had happened between us because I wanted to give him a second chance. Such clever. Very plan. Wow.  
  
“I’m waiting for someone. You can take the rest of the table,” I told him.  
  
I knew he didn’t like it when people didn’t obey at once, and I knew I was pushing him.  
  
“I need ALL the table, Parker. If you’re waiting for your emo friend, you two can sit anywhere else.”  
  
“She’s not emo.” I frowned.  
  
I was clearly testing his patience. Or I would be, if he had any.  
  
“Shut up and leave if you don’t want me to beat you up.”  
  
I stared at him silently because I felt stupid for having walked into that situation, not because of the threat.  
  
“Good.” He sat down in front of me. “Now leave me alone!”  
  
I stood up, not knowing if I was going to leave or say something that would make him hit me again, but I didn’t have to choose, because he took it as my capitulation.  
  
“God. You’re such a pussy, Parker.” He snorted.  
  
I couldn’t help but think about “Pussy  & Wussy” and I laughed out loud. Wade was going to be the death of me, but at least I would die laughing.  
  
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” I asked, trying to explain my reaction, but probably adding salt to the wound.  
  
He smiled and stood up, looming over the table until his face was too close to mine. “You must be quite the masochist. You really want me to punch you again now that it’s faded, huh?” he whispered.  
  
_How are you going to discredit him, Peter? It really looks like you’re trying very hard to make him hit you._  
  
“Enough!” an authoritarian voice cried.  
  
Thompson and I jumped back and turned to the other side of the table. I was surprised to find a small crowd of onlookers, including Johnny, Mary Jane, and her friend Gwen Warren. Yes, of course her name was Gwen. It couldn’t have been… I don’t know… Abby or something.  
  
Johnny looked at me in shock, as if he had never seen me before, and it made me feel embarrassed. Warren —I couldn’t think of her as Gwen— just looked bored. But Mary Jane…  
  
Mary Jane was the one who had yelled at us. And her face was as red as her hair. The rage was so clear, I had to step back.  
  
“Stop, both of you!”  
  
She approached Thompson on the other side of the table.  
  
“Stop provoking him, Peter,” she told me. Thompson straightened. “And you, Flash! I expected more from you.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. Impressive. “And Peter’s right. Stop using female genitalia as a slur! You should be ashamed of yourself.”  
  
She turned away and left, Warren after her. “You were so cool, MJ!” And she was right, of course.  
  
I let them go, too shocked to say anything, but Johnny  drew closer to me. He looked as bewildered as I felt.  
  
“Let’s go, Peter,” he muttered as he passed next to me. But then, he stopped next to Thompson. “So it was you who hurt Peter. And you lied to me.” He looked angry and dangerous, even though he was whispering. “You’re lucky my hands are not free.”  
  
He held his tray higher, turned away and left. I stared at his back for a few seconds until I noticed Thompson clenching his fists. He looked about to explode, so I took my own tray and followed Johnny as fast as I could.  
  
Mary Jane had found a place for the four of us, so we sat and had lunch together. It was the most awkward lunch I’d ever had, because Mary Jane was still raging, Warren was still praising her and ignoring the rest, and Johnny was unusually quiet. I enjoyed every second.  
  
It’s a good thing to know some people will stand for you, that they think you are worth it. I’d honestly forgotten how wonderful that felt.  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like Peter and Johnny might become friends at last!
> 
> What will Wade think about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Do you still remember me?  
> I've been busy with work and university. Please understand.  
> I'll try to keep you updated against all odds!
> 
> As always, I want to thank chokolacat for all her help :)

  
All the hassle during lunch made me forget that I was supposed to meet Johnny, so I was surprised to see him approach my desk after class.  
  
“Are you free, Peter?” he asked, averting my eyes.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“We have to talk.”  
  
He looked too serious and that was making me nervous.  
  
“Are we breaking up? I didn’t even know we were together.”  
  
“What?!” His confusion was clear.  
  
“Relax, dude. It was just a joke.”  
  
He looked me in the eye then and smiled.  
  
“We definitely have to talk. Can you come to my house today?”  
  
I somehow managed to refrain from making a “not on the first date” joke. It was hard. Very hard. Wade was such a bad influence.  
  
“For a while, yes. How far is it?”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. My sister always comes to pick me up and she’ll give us a ride. She has to, the car is mine after all.”  
  
So I had been right. They really were related.  
  
“That fancy convertible I saw this morning?”  
  
“The same. Did you like it?” He didn’t wait for my answer. Probably because I was gaping. “I’m not rich or anything, OK? I just… like cars a lot, and fixing old cars is my hobby. My neighbors and my sister’s friends let me play with their cars when they don’t want them anymore, and one of them told me I could keep his old car when he got a new one. Wanna see how it looked like?”  
  
And that’s how I ended checking Johnny’s instagram on our way out. The car had looked like junk the first days, that was for sure. Nothing like the shiny new thing I’d seen that morning. I was in awe.  
  
“That’s amazing. I’d heard a bit about you, but I didn’t know you were a pro. And a very young one, too!”  
  
“Says the genius kid all the teachers are talking about.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Really? You have no idea?” He turned to me as he held the door open and laughed. “Are you always that oblivious? Maybe it’s a genius thing. Doctor… I mean, Mr. Banner is the same.”  
  
“Mr. Banner is a Doctor?” I asked, though I was not surprised.  
  
He nodded. “In nuclear physics. And he’s actually famous. He was a child prodigy, you know?”  
  
“What is he doing here?”  
  
“Hmm… Well…” He looked around the street and got closer to me, dropping his voice and covering his mouth. “I’ve heard a kid died in an experiment of his and he decided to become a teacher, but I don’t know the details.” He shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone, OK?”  
  
“Of course I won’t, but how come you know all that?”  
  
“Mr. Banner, Stark and my sister’s love interest used to move in the same circles, so I know a few things.”  
  
I was speechless. Johnny wasn’t what I had expected at all, and the shock made me forget that we were meant to get somewhere by car. And then his sister arrived, and I noticed the car didn’t strike me as fancy anymore. It was truly impressive. I didn’t know much about such things, but having seen the photos Johnny took, I felt like I was in front of a modern-day wizard.  
  
“Are you sure this is the same car you showed me?”  
  
Johnny smiled smugly as he jumped into the car. His sister rolled her eyes, shaking her head.  
  
“You know nothing, John Snow. Get in and I’ll show you what it can do.”  
  
“I think you mean I will show him, don’t you?” his sister complained. “And don’t make it sound like we’re going to do anything dangerous!”  
  
“Come on, Sue, where’s your sense of adventure? You used to be cool!”  
  
“I am cool! You’re the hot-headed one!”  
  
They bickered for a while, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was busy trying to keep breathing.  
  
“Well, I’m sure Peter wants to… Peter?”. Johnny frowned and I wondered what expression he’d seen on my face.  
  
“You look terribly pale,” Sue whispered, looking alarmed.  
  
The two of them were staring at me, visibly worried. Johnny opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, biting his lip. I realized they were waiting for me to say something.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can go walking if you give me your address. I don’t want to bother you.” I was feeling uncomfortable and the world swayed —or I did. I took a step back, away from both road and car, and closer to the beautiful lawn. I suddenly wanted to lie face-first on it.  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Peter. There’s plenty of room,” Johnny insisted, unaware of my heart’s desire.  
  
“I’m sure that what my _stupid brother_ meant was that you don’t have to be shy,” Sue clarified, glaring at Johnny every two words.  
  
Johnny winced.  
  
“Yeah, that. Sorry.”  
  
What if I said I didn’t trust the car? Would that hurt Johnny, who’d been so proud of it? Maybe it would be better if I tried to get inside, tried to test if I’d recovered. The mere thought paralyzed me and made it harder to breathe.  
  
It took me a while to come back to my senses, and then I noticed Johnny was talking to an impatient driver who probably wanted to park in their spot. The driver left mumbling something I didn’t catch, and two sets of blue eyes turned back to me. I didn’t want to lie to them.  
  
“Sorry, but I don’t think I can.”  
  
“Oh, that’s fine,” Sue said, thankfully empathic. “You two can stay around here if that’s better.”  
  
I looked at Johnny to see if he wanted to. He was staring at me, eyes narrowed.  
  
“Why not?” he asked with a pained expression that made me feel guilty.  
  
_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in._  
  
“I’ve been in two car crashes recently. As you can see, I survived, but — and since then I haven’t been able to ride a car, or a bus, or…”  
  
_Shut up. They got the idea. Breathe._  
  
Johnny and Sue looked at each other, and Johnny surprised me by opening the door gently and getting out of the car like a civilized person. I think the siblings had communicated telepathically, because then Sue waved goodbye and left. My eyes followed the car until it was out of sight. I started to feel better instantly. Now I could stop picturing Sue and Johnny getting killed in many colorful ways that exploited the lack of a solid top.  
  
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see Johnny standing very close to me.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You were almost hyperventilating and I didn’t realize.”  
  
“It’s OK.”  
  
“No, it’s not.”  
  
There was something reassuring in his gaze. I could feel that he didn’t judge but wanted to help, and that made me want to explain myself. I guess that’s when I knew we were actually going to become friends.  
  
“Where do you want to go?”  
  
I shrugged. “Wherever you want.”  
  
“Somewhere cheap?”  
  
“Well, my house is not so far away and we can eat for free,” I offered.  
  
“You said the magical words. Take me to this wonderful place you speak of.”  
  
It almost made me smile.  
  
“Can you give me your address so I can tell my sister where to pick me up in a couple of hours?”  
  
I took his smartphone and typed it for him as we walked.  
  
“Thank you,” he muttered when I gave it back.  
  
“It’s just faster this way.”  
  
“No, I wanted to thank you for telling me.” He pointed behind us with his thumb. “And I want you to know that I really understand. My mother died in a car crash when we were little. My father felt guilty and… well, shit happened and now we live with our aunt. I remember how it felt back then, but it got better with time. You’ll get over it, too.”  
  
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I even wondered if I’d heard wrong.  
  
“But you love cars! How?”  
  
“Oh, I do now. I think it all started as a… coping mechanism? That’s what my sister says. But please, don’t copy me. I think I might have a masochistic streak.”  
  
_Well, Thompson does think I’m a masochist._  
  
I huffed and stopped at a crossing. There was no one around, but we waited until the light turned green for us.  
  
“I also live with my aunt and uncle. My parents died in the second car crash,” I explained.  
  
“Second?”  
  
“I said there were two accidents, right? My girlfriend and her father died in the first one.”  
  
I expected Johnny to say I’d been lucky to survive both. He seemed that kind of optimistic guy. But he was right. He _understood_.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Peter. That’s fucking unfair.” He shook his head like he couldn’t accept it. “I have no words.”  
  
I had no words either, so we walked in silence until we got home. Uncle Ben was watching the TV in the kitchen while he kept an eye on the oven, so we left him to it as soon as Johnny had been introduced. I took Johnny and a couple of radioactive drinks, and together we headed to the backyard. My room was too messy and it was early for Wade, so it seemed like a pretty good idea. I didn’t want him to hear what Johnny would say. I didn’t know what it would be and I didn’t want to worry about how Wade would take it. I had enough wondering how I’d take it.  
  
Johnny had started talking when we saw Uncle Ben and hadn’t stopped ever since. It was funny to realize he only needed a little push and he could go on for hours. We sat down at the bench and I asked myself why I always ended up there.  
  
It was nice outside. The air wasn’t warm, but it was sunny. Aunt May always says one has to enjoy those sunny days before the winter, so she would be happy to see us there when she got back home. I tried to pay attention to whatever Johnny was saying.  
  
“I think she wants to move to California with him, but she won’t because of me. Do you think she’s waiting until I get my license? I wish she’d do whatever she wanted. Don’t take it wrong. I’ll miss her, but I want her to be happy.” He shook his head. “Please don’t tell her I’ve said that. I’ll do whatever you want.”  
  
“Even explain why you’re telling me all this?” It was very confusing. “Why are you being so friendly?”  
  
His smile turned tight. “Yeah, we should start talking about that. It’s what I came for, but I’ve been putting it off.”  
  
Well, that sounded fine. I hadn’t even expected an answer.  
  
“I can see that.” I nodded.  
  
“It’s just…” He sighed. “It’s easy talking to you when you’re pretending we’re friends, so I didn’t want to screw things up.”  
  
“We could be friends.”  
  
“If I hadn’t been an idiot, you mean?” He wanted me to laugh, but his gaze turned sad. “I see that now, and I see I was mistaken. Jessica told me as much, but I was listening to the wrong people. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Well, if you actually explain what happened, maybe we could get along now.”  
  
He stared at me for a few seconds before he exploded, blurting out what he must have been holding back for a while. He sounded angry, but not at me.  
  
“As I said, I was wrong. Listened to people that were telling lies. Thought you were the bad guy, but I’ve learned that it’s the other way round. Did you know that people were blaming you for all the bad stuff that’s been happening lately? And even more… Ugh, confessing that I even heard about this shit makes me feel ashamed.”  
  
Well, that didn’t sound too bad, did it?  
  
“Don’t worry. But what happened? What bad stuff?”  
  
He facepalmed, stood up and started walking around the garden, clearly upset.  
  
“Everything, from you cheating in science exams cause it was impossible to get such good grades and there was proof.” Johnny smiled when he heard me laugh, but he didn’t stop. “Mostly stupid stuff like that, but do you remember when someone wrote homophobic slurs in that first grade kid’s locker?”  
  
_What? People said I was the one to do that? That doesn’t make any sense!_  
  
“But—” I tried to interrupt, but he didn’t let me.  
  
Johnny raised his hand to make me stop, but what silenced me was his expression. He was standing in front of me, and he wasn’t smiling any more. When he looked me in the eye, I felt his pain and braced myself.  
  
“They even said you’d had to change schools because you were responsible for the death of another student.”  
  
Luckily, I don’t actually know how being stabbed feels, but I swear it must be similar to what I felt then. I gaped, trying to breathe. It was too close to the truth. To my deepest fears.  
  
“Of course, I didn’t believe them anymore. I have eyes, even if I hadn’t been using them before, and I started listening to Jessica, but I didn’t know how to fix things. And one day you appeared with that bruise on your face, and I started investigating. I think I managed to silence a couple of rumors, but my goal was to find out who had hit you. And when I learned it had been Flash, I… searched for him at the cafeteria and we had a little chat.”  
  
So that’s what I’d witnessed…  
  
“He promised it hadn’t been him, but now I don’t believe anything he says. Anyway, once I felt less guilty, I thought that the next step would be to talk to you. And apologize. And here we are.”  
  
I looked at him again. I didn’t know what to say.  
  
“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m sorry I started listening to them. And I’m sorry it took me so fricking long to stop. Please let me know how I can make things right. I really want to be your friend!”  
  
He was waiting for me to say something, but it took me a while to react. His phone made some chest-opening sound and he checked the screen before pocketing it again. It took him three tries. I felt bad for making him nervous.  
  
“Dude, that’s a lot to swallow,” I said.  
  
“I know,” he replied, averting my eyes.  
  
If Wade was here, I’d have earned a “that’s what she said”. That’s when I realized I hadn’t been paying attention to the other side of the fence. Was he around? Had he heard anything we’d said?  
  
“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you everything. It’s a bit too much to…” He bit his lip.  
  
“Process?” I offered. “It’s fine, you don’t have to do anything for me.”  
  
“You’re too nice, Peter. And that makes me feel worse.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. Judging by his pained expression, it was the wrong thing to say.  
  
“My sis is nearby, so I’ll leave now and let you think about it. You can tell me tomorrow.” I frowned, but he kept talking. “Do it for me, just because I need it. And don’t say you want me to be your friend or to protect you from Flash, because I’m gonna do it whether you want me or not. It has to be… something… more.”  
  
“Well, if you put it like that, I’ll have to think about it. But I already consider you a friend.”  
  
_Maybe the only requisite is to talk to me without punching my face._  
  
“Good. Thanks.” He got ready to leave and checked his phone again. “I’ll see myself out, then. I’m glad we got to talk.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
And I was glad he didn’t want me to accompany him, because I wouldn’t have been able to stand up and walk straight. But when he reached the door leading back inside, he made me turn around before he opened it.  
  
“Peter!” I looked at him. The bench wasn’t that far and Johnny’s voice does carry, so I didn’t feel compelled to get up. I could hear him just fine from there. “I just want you to know that you can ask me for anything. Whatever I can do to earn my forgiveness. Anything, OK?”  
  
I blinked and he opened the door, but he didn’t leave.  
  
“Well, except maybe kill someone, of course. But I know you wouldn’t want that.”  
  
He smiled then, waved goodbye and left.  
   
_Exactly like a storm._  
  
There was nothing else that could make the day even more confusing, right? Well, spoiler alert: the world enjoys proving me wrong.  
  
“I see now you’re friends with the ugliest guy in school, Parker.”  
  
The voice was so cold and I was so shocked by Johnny’s speech and demands that I felt like it was all part of a dream. Every second felt unreal, and the way Wade had spat my surname was the most alien of all.  
  
“He’s not ugly, actually—”  
  
“Yeah, I remember what you said when you first mentioned him, you know?” He interrupted me.  
  
“I don’t. What did I say?”  
  
“Nothing. Forget it.” I heard the fading steps from the other side of the fence. “Hope you have fun with your new b-best friend, Parker.”  
  
Wade closed his door and vanished from my life as fast and unexpectedly as he had appeared in it.  
  
Have I said everything felt like a dream?  
  
Because this is clearly a nightmare.  
  



End file.
